


Turnstile

by herbailiwick



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amusement Parks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 13:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11761215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: Happy birthday, Gafou-9!Modern AU with Amusement Park Gafou. LeFou needs to know what his chances are, so some friends help him out.





	Turnstile

“LeFou, guess who got two tickets for free from work again?” his friend preened, and LeFou knew the answer could only be Gaston. The answer was always only Gaston!  


LeFou took a moment to admire the way Gaston looked: chest puffed up a bit, eyes bright, sparkling, the smile showing a hint of teeth. “You want to go again?”

“What?” Gaston frowned slightly. “No, I’m going to ask Belle. You understand, my friend.”  


A four-pound brick sat on top of LeFou’s heart, crushing it slowly with its weight as Gaston went on. 

“You know she hasn’t really had many shared experiences with me. This should help,” Gaston pointed out.  


LeFou took a breath in slowly, trying to get the green tinge discoloring the world to go away. Gaston had been on a kick about Belle, a beautiful and interesting girl who was a new (relatively) big name in town. Gaston was a well-known talent agent and she was making a name for herself in PR, particularly on the social media and technological side of things. She had vision, for bigger things than just fashion, where LeFou was trying to make a name for himself.

“Of course,” LeFou rolled his eyes. Gaston kept crossing paths with her, and it was really starting to get to LeFou that he wouldn’t just give up after she’d turned him down a few times.  


“We’ve always gone together, though,” LeFou pointed out again.   


“We’ll go, if she turns me down again,” Gaston promised.  


***

Gaston’s pout was evident across his face as their tickets were taken and they were let in the turnstile. LeFou would have laughed, but he knew better. That would have led to a fight, Gaston’s sensibilities offended to the point it’d be hard to get him to enjoy himself in a timely manner.

That was all fine, because, after years of rooming together, after years of going to events with Gaston as his best friend, as his old classmate from school, of going to the amusement park, he was ready to just get really, awkwardly in Gaston’s face about his interest in men, whatever that took. Gaston knew about his sexuality full well, but he never reacted to it, never seemed to care, which was almost insulting considering some of the homophobia LeFou had dealt with growing up, some of the homophobia he still dealt with, even in the fashion industry.

“I can’t believe she’s here with _him_ , that soap opera sweetheart. I thought we had a connection! Do you think she’s just trying to make me jealous?”  


LeFou took in a deep breath. “Honestly, I don’t know, Gaston,” he said, voice full of unsaid words he didn’t even care to mentally form anymore. He adjusted the hemline of his iridescent rainbow top. “I don’t know her. I don’t know why she does whatever she does, whether she’s playing hard-to-get, whatever she’s doing.”

Gaston paused for a moment. “Are you alright, my friend?” he asked. 

“No,” said LeFou. Gaston waited for more, but he wasn’t offering more, not yet. “Let’s just ride something already. One of the big ones.”  


“Of course!” 

Gaston loved the thrill of the roller coasters, wiggling a bit with excitement as they waited in lines for coasters. He didn’t actually enjoy the experience as much as LeFou did, sometimes even getting nauseated or even frightened, but he enjoyed pushing himself to his limits, just as he enjoyed pushing others to theirs.  


It was nice, the fact he didn’t take them as well as he took, say, a friend’s sexuality, because sometimes he got close, or wanted comfort afterward, physically, emotionally, letting his vulnerability show for LeFou, knowing LeFou would take care of it.

It was a pretty normal trip for them, complete with that closeness LeFou knew they’d have on the tallest coaster. He got to pat Gaston’s back after he threw up a little, knowing his friend would recover quickly for a new challenge. The weather was kind to them, warm with a breeze, and it was almost idyllic, until they happened to see Belle and Adam in a line and something shifted in Gaston again. 

“She’s actually laughing, at whatever it is he’s saying,” Gaston said, sighing.   


LeFou’s hand clenched into a fist on the handle of his mermaid sequin tote. “Maybe he’s funny,” he said, letting out some of the bitterness that had been building in him when Belle was mentioned lately. Gaston rarely actually dated, enjoying the attentions of women without necessarily wanting to date. He had one night stands a lot, but LeFou had assumed he was aromantic. 

Gaston didn’t catch that what he meant was maybe Adam was funnier than Gaston. 

It seemed to him that Gaston had been mostly interested in maintaining his focus on his career, only having time for thinking of LeFou now and then, and his mother, until now, with Belle. Sure, she was a genius, and beautiful, and absolutely unfazed by Gaston, whereas...whereas LeFou could never hope to be, jumping at every request, tagging along like some kind of pathetic, big iridescent shadow.

“Now _you’re_  pouting,” Gaston pointed out. “What’s getting to you? You can tell me.”  


“You’re not the only one interested in someone who doesn’t seem interested back,” LeFou ground out despite himself. Gaston tilted his head at that, like Belle’s chihuahua tended to do, according to her Instagram pictures. 

“I need to fix something,” Gaston said. “I need to do something, to be a hero.” He was only partway joking, a survivor of childhood PTSD who had told LeFou things he’d only told various therapists and a few of his one night stands. “Who’s this guy? What can I offer you?”

LeFou reached out to put his hand on Gaston’s shoulder gently. “I like just being here with you,” he admitted. “That’s help enough. But I think I need to refuel. You keep stalking,” he joked. 

“Hunting,” Gaston teased.

“Yeah, whatever. Still just as creepy,” LeFou chuckled, liking the way it made Gaston grin. 

He left Gaston and that grin behind as he made his way over to an entirely different line. He couldn’t see Gaston well anymore by the time he got there.   


“Time to drown this depression,” LeFou sighed. Who was he kidding? He wouldn’t be able to tell him, wouldn’t be able to risk the weird thing they had, a thing that wasn’t quite as modern as the two of them looked to be, still contained in an envelope of times past where it wasn’t as easy to talk about being gay, to think about being married as a gay man, to think about how easy it could be to accept and celebrate gayness.  


As LeFou sat down with his funnel cake under a large, blue umbrella, he kept his eyes on his plate for a good while, focusing on eating. He was about halfway through before he looked around a bit. A few tables away in front of him was a couple, but they were likely friends, if the rainbow attire was anything to judge by.

He made eye contact with a sweet, fit guy for a moment before recognizing him, and his friend, slightly older, black, a little over the top in that I Sing For A Living way. It was world famous Madame and a designer he’d actually worked with a few times named Stanley. They weren’t together romantically, most likely. And...they were staring at him. 

Quickly, LeFou looked down at the funnel cake, turning red as he tried to decide how to attack it next and how not to seem as fat as he was while doing it, just in case someone like Stanley would judge him for it.

“What brings you down, this lovely Pride season?” Stanley asked, and LeFou jumped, looking up. There they both were, worrying about him.

Stanley offered his hand. “It’s me, LeFou! Madame, this man is a genius,” Stanley beamed, and LeFou blinked, registering the compliment.   


He accepted the sincerity and appreciated it, but knew this was someone who would likely understand his plight, so he said, “If I was a genius, I’d have made my interest in my best friend much clearer by now, and wouldn’t be watching him stalk a PR lady.”

Stanley giggled, and it was beautiful. Maybe if LeFou looked a little more like Stanley, Gaston would notice him. Maybe it wasn’t the guy thing, after all. With a guilty glance, LeFou looked down at the funnel cake.

Stanley seated himself right near LeFou, taking the fork from his hand so he could have a taste. “That’s delicious!” he said.

Madame took a seat on LeFou’s other side, adjusting her sunglasses briefly. “I love your top. Is it one of your own?”

LeFou nodded, staring at her for just a moment, in slight awe that _the_ Madame had somehow materialized right next to him. “Your songs mean everything to me,” he blurted out.

She laughed, reaching out to give him a pat on the back. “I’d like to see if I can work with you sometime. Love to work with my old friends of course,” she nodded to Stanley, “but love to make new friends too.”

LeFou pulled open his bag and thumbed through his things for his business card case. “There’s this song of yours that makes me think of him,” he sighed heavily. “Especially the line about...the constant that he is being in danger of becoming the biggest regret.”

“‘The Hunter’,” she announced, pleased. “And that line about the liminal place you find yourself in, you experience that too?”  


“Do I ever,” he muttered.   


“Let’s make him jealous. Do you want to?” Stanley asked.  


“You and me?” asked LeFou.  


“Both of us,” Madame teased. “Let’s star strike him.”  


LeFou chuckled. “Should we?”

“Yeah,” Stanley nodded, muttering around another bite of funnel cake. “Definitely!”  


LeFou handed Madame his business card, and she handed it to Stanley to stick in his bag, not having one of her own. 

His new friends helped him up from the bench, and they were heading back before he knew it.

***

It _was_  satisfying to see the look on Gaston’s face when he came off the ride alone, looking a little nauseated, and found his friend returning with Madame and a handsome man who was wearing a shirt that announced he was Gayer Than Expected.

“This is Stanley, Gaston. I’ve worked with him before, and I think...correct me if I’m wrong, I think he has an Instagram for his drag persona.”  


“I do!” Stanley said, impressed. “Gosh, you’re cute, aren’t you?” LeFou felt himself reddening: He hadn’t expected Stanley to jump right to it. Efficient.

“He’s been studying me, Gaston,” Stanley chuckled, and Gaston looked a little flustered as well, looking from LeFou to Stanley.

“Oh. Uh. Yeah, I guess he’s...good at that. He knows his stuff.”  


“Maybe he likes me!” Stanley said with a bit of a laugh. “Are you dating anyone, LeFou?”  


LeFou shook his head quickly. “No! Definitely single. For too long,” he admitted, sighing. “I don’t like quick things, and it’s hard for me to feel like I know someone.” 

“Tunnel of Love!” announced Stanley, wrapping an arm around LeFou’s back, tugging him closer. Gaston eyed the gesture with wide eyes, shooting LeFou a questioning glance, just a bit protective of his longtime friend. He didn’t know LeFou to go for that sort of intimacy so quickly, but, then, he said he’d worked with Stanley before and studied up on him.  


Hmm. Maybe LeFou _did_  find Stanley cute and interesting.

“Wanna pair up?” teased Madame. “What’s your pleasure, babe?”  


Gaston blinked again, taking a moment to appreciate her style, her confidence. “What man would say no?” he asked, and then, after a moment added, “Alright, maybe one who was gay, but he’d still want to sit next to you on a swan. You’re such a legend,” he praised. “And, those lyrics, the...liminal thing,” he sighed, shook his head, glanced for a lingering moment at LeFou. LeFou played the song quite a bit, and Gaston had admitted to appreciating the way it captured the Will They Won’t They of certain relationships, in such a universal and yet specific way.

“So you like women, then,” Madame said pleasantly, gently taking Gaston’s arm.  


“I do!” he agreed.  


“And men?” asked Madame. LeFou forgot to follow them, freezing as he waited for an answer. Stanley nudged him along.  


“Men have their charms, charms I’ve hooked onto the bracelet of my conquests,” Gaston teased, grinning.   


How was this more than LeFou had found out for certain over the years he’d known Gaston? How was this such a good distraction from Belle and Adam, too, Madame and Stanley, people they barely knew. 

“Do you ever date men?” Madame asked, reaching out to smooth a hand through Gaston’s hair for a moment. It was soft to the touch, LeFou knew, glad this was one woman who was on his side and not trying to take Gaston from him.  


“I never have,” Gaston admitted. “I rarely date, though. Busy, and not often interested.”

“How have I never asked him about this so bluntly?” LeFou whispered to Stanley, embarrassed at himself.   


“It’s awkward if you’ve been friends for so long!” Stanley soothed. “You’re doing great. I think he really took notice when I mentioned how cute you are. You are, by the way! You can let me know if it doesn’t work out.”  


LeFou froze up for a moment again, not used to being talked to like that, being fairly private most of the time, not usually allowing guys to get close enough to ask him to do anything at all.

“You’re doing great,” Stanley assured him, and the tone was warm and kind. Maybe he’d see if they could collaborate sometime. The man had such a nice presence. It would never touch his inner core and inspire him the way Gaston did, probably, but it was really, deeply refreshing.  


***

“Well, would you try going on a date with one sometime, for me, for Madame? I think you should try it, since you said it’s possible it might feel right with the right guy.”  


Stanley reached into his purse for his lip color as they waited in line, reapplying.

LeFou watched with a bit of trepidation. This was it, then: They were actually going to kiss. Despite being very out, every chance he could have been, he didn’t date much and definitely didn’t make out much. 

“Let me kiss you all over, so he’ll see it,” Stanley whispered, and LeFou found himself nodding as he imagined the possibility Gaston might actually see him with the green tinge LeFou knew so well if such a thing happened.  


***

Stanley’s breath was warm and pleasant, and he giggled some more as he kissed LeFou’s face, the echoes of the water ride bringing the giggles to him like a present he bought himself and had gift wrapped at the store, somehow a step above the everyday of treating oneself.

He could hear Madame asking Gaston questions in a low voice, and Gaston heartily answering. More than once, Gaston had told LeFou to mind his own business, not comfortable opening up to him, but apparently fine doing so with Madame. LeFou reminded himself, in between warm kisses from Stanley’s red-tinged lips, that Madame was on his side and was probably not actually interested in having sex with Gaston enough to do so.

***

Madame was feeling up Gaston’s muscled arm with appreciation as they stood near the exit in the warm sunlight, but Gaston’s eyes weren’t watching her as much as they were watching LeFou.

“Was it nice?” Gaston breathed finally, and the other three eyed him with bated breath, hoping his interest in whether it was nice would pay off for LeFou.  


LeFou paused, knowing a lot was resting on how he responded to this new shift in their dynamic. He finally decided to shake his head. “Stanley’s adorable, of course. But I only want one guy to kiss me all over.”

“Who?” Gaston asked, gaze a little sharper than usual. “Can I help you snag this guy?” There was something a little breathless about the tone.   


LeFou swallowed, turning red again. The breathlessness came from looking at _him_ , from seeing him as something someone could like kissing over and over on his plump face.

“I like to help,” Gaston reminded.  


There was a long and heavy silence, in which clouds moved, the wind offered its gentle touches, the sun touched each of them on the shoulder, patted them on the head in appreciation, in approval.

Madame hummed a few bars. It was their song, in a way, or at least one LeFou played at home often and Gaston appreciated.

LeFou stuck his hand out, found Gaston’s quickly. He pulled Gaston further away from the exit of the ride, unable to make direct eye contact as he stopped, his hand not releasing Gaston’s.

“It’s you. It’s always you. I can’t stop wanting you to want me. Deeply, wholly. I don’t care, if you’re aromantic. I care, but, it’s not a deal breaker. I just love what we have and I want more, I don’t want someone else in the way, like Belle.”  


Their hands remained together, Gaston’s neither slipping away nor affecting the connection between them in any way that indicated that he understood, that he agreed with and reflected the sentiment, either.

“You look so good,” Gaston said.  


His tone was soft, but sincere. LeFou didn’t move, did not make eye contact still. 

“I’ve never seen someone kiss you before, not like that. Like you’re...delicious.” His voice was even quieter. He was getting lost, but he didn’t sound like he minded.  


“Are you?” Gaston finally asked.  


LeFou jerked back into action, his eyes meeting Gaston’s. “Gaston,” he gasped, biting his lip, lips he could taste a bit of Stanley’s red on. 

Gaston seemed to want an answer, remaining very, very still.

“I don’t know!” LeFou admitted, and, to his slight horror, he was crying. There were tears in his way as he tried to see Gaston, and they started to fall. “Do you really want to know? Are you interested? Can I do this, if we’re not...or do you _want_ to be dating? I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted.   


Gaston reached out and wiped at LeFou’s face, brushing away his tears with his free hand. “I knew you loved what we have, but I didn’t know you felt this way enough to...to cry,” he admitted with a bit of embarrassment. 

“I thought you were straight and thought I was fat,” LeFou blurted out. “I thought a million things. Or that I was too easy to walk all over.”  


Gaston’s finger kept rubbing at his cheek, and LeFou frowned before realizing. 

“Gaston, are you...?”  


“I’m taking off this one, this mark,” Gaston said, focused, frowning slightly. “I’m wiping it off. There should be room for me, when I do.”  


When his lips finally met LeFou’s cheek, LeFou gasped, melted. “Oh,” he said, and another tear felt. It wasn’t his fault Gaston was so overwhelming, really. Gaston worked on being a force, when he wasn’t basking in the ways he achieved the feat naturally.

Gaston was so solid and warm as they curled up with each other in their little metal car as it swung in the air just a bit, creaking lightly for them. “Just a friend, hm?” he murmured against LeFou’s hair. “What a good friend.”

“Not as good as you, though. I saw you trying to protect me, if I needed it, before we got on those swans.”  


“Well, I love you. You know that.”  


“I do,” LeFou sighed happily. “However we’re going to connect, it’ll be nice.”  


“LeFou?”  


LeFou shifted a little, looking at Gaston openly, wondering what he was hesitating to say. He hesitated over some very interesting stuff sometimes.

“You really are delicious,” he said kindly.  


LeFou turned a bit more to hug Gaston close, sure that, in whichever way he held Gaston, he would never let go.


End file.
